13 Lives- Part Two
by Superman's Y-Fronts
Summary: In a sequel to 13 Lives - First Life, Katrithetarelundar, daughter of the Doctor and Romanadvoratrelundar, has left Gallifrey, in need of change. Following in her parents' footsteps she runs from her home seeking adventure, escape, and something, anything, new.
1. Chapter 1

She screams as the painful golden light courses through her, changing every cell in her body, healing by destroying.

It burns, and the scalding heat is the only thing she is aware of. That, and a vague feeling she may be crashing and should have paid more attention to the one day of the piloting course she had turned up to. Oh well, too late now.

A breathy laugh is released at the certainty that her sense of humour has by far improved, but it is cut short by searing pain as she realises the burn scars across her arm are disappearing and being burnt afresh into her ankle, and suddenly she is back in a dimly lit room, she is small, she is afraid, she is screaming.

And then she is looking into the schism, a gaping rip between the fluctuating fabric of time, and she is everything, and she is nothing, and everywhere, and always, and nowhere, and never, and _it hurts._

And then it's over; she's changed, but in that moment, all she can think about is how she hasn't.

She's still alone. Still afraid. And it still hurts.

_**A/N: Short introduction chapter, okay, so it's kinda miniscule, but they'll be a follow up this weekend which should be a bit more light hearted in a break from, um, most of this thing so far.**_

_**Any thoughts for titles?**_


	2. Chapter 2

Katrithetarelundar wakes up.

It is only upon doing so that she actually realises she had passed out, and as she blows a few strands of unreasonably bright red curls out of her face and sits up, she suddenly remembers why.

Curious, she begins checking herself. Legs? Yes, two, same size. Feet? Average size, match. Knees? Not too knobbly. Hips? Just about. Hands? Long fingers, horologists' fingers. Shoulders? Small, round. Nose? Of the button variety. Lips? Small, round. Cheekbones? Phwoar! Excellent! Eyebrows? Oh, well. Better luck next time. Ears? Phew.

She can feel people outside, so despite her fatigue, she determinedly half trudges, half stumbles out the partially formed doors, her long, cumbersome Timelord robes falling down onto the floor in a heap as she goes.


	3. Chapter 3

_**Earth, the North Atlantic Ocean, 1912**_.

'All right, I'll see you this evening then.'

'Amelia, don't be ridiculous, you know perfectly well that you are too young to be walking around alone.'

'Well, consider this a trial. Should anything bad happen, I won't do it in future. Should it go well, you convince Father to reconsider. Do we have an agreement, Mother?'

'You and your agreements will be the death of me, Amelia' the tall, elegant woman sighed, shaking her head, 'very well, you have until seven o'clock, don't let your father see you, understand?'

'Oh, thank you Mother, thank you! I won't let you down!' Her equally tall daughter gushed, breaking out into a smug grin and beaming at her mother, not quite at the age of elegance yet.

As her mother continued down the corridor and turned the corner, secretly smiling to herself, proud of her daughter's newfound independence, the girl stood there for a moment revelling in her freedom.

However her moment of contemplation was interrupted by the sound of something heavy being tipped over followed by a slightly muffled exclamation of 'Ow! Bloody Hell! Well that's just cheating.'

Intrigued, Amelia followed the sound, towards the third class cabins, right at the rear of the boat- what was it called, the port? Starboard? No, that's it- stern.

As she rushed towards the noise, she narrowly missed being floored as a young woman with the most extraordinary red hair burst out of it and promptly stumbled, falling heavily into a heap on the floor.

As Amelia knelt down to help her up, she managed to pick up a few words from the woman's mumbling. 'Course I _would _land in a room full of top-opening cases…bloody gravity…have to check the dimensional stabilisers…probably still be on fire by the time it lets me back in…stupid jammed bloody door…Oh, hello there.'

Startled, Amelia hurriedly responded, 'Oh, yes, er, hello…are you alright?'

'Er, yes. Thank you! I mean, I just got a little confused…oh dear…' she trailed off, glancing downwards and noticing the state of her clothes. The sleeves of her opaque red blouse were in tatters, the left sleeve barely hanging on, so, realising there was no longer anything left to hide beneath it, she ripped it off, and instead turned her attention to the singed remains of what had been quite a modest skirt. 'Aargh,' she muttered, the pain of the freshly burned brand on her right ankle flaming up again, 'Actually, I think I may need a change of clothes, if I just go back and-'

'Don't be ridiculous!' She was interrupted, 'you're in no condition to pick out an outfit, come with me, I'm sure I can find you something in my cabin for this evening.'

'Right. Yes, this evening…and your cabin would be…'

'It's only up a few flights of steps and towards the front of the ship, erm, excuse me, I mean the bow.'

'Right the ship, which ship exactly? I'm sorry, I think I may have knocked my head when I fell, it's given me quite a, um, turn, I suppose.'

'That's quite all right, it's the Titanic of course! Unsinkable they say! And I'm Amelia, you are?'

'Oh, I'm Kat- it's short for …Katherine.' She replied, thanking god that she'd found that book of names back in the library on Gallifrey. 'When we get to your cabin, do you think we can find some ice or something? I've got rather a bad burn and it stings awfully.'

'Some ice…I suppose we could ask in the kitchen, we pass the restaurant on the way.'

_**A/N: So um sorry about the, er, wait. A lot of shit happened and I really wasn't in the mood for writing. Thanks for the lovely review. Bye.**_


	4. Chapter 4

_**Earth, the North Atlantic Ocean, 1912**_.

'Oh.' Was all Amelia could manage as Katherine emerged from her dressing room.

'I-I don't know…I can't wear this, it's yours, I- I shouldn't even be going, you hardly know me-'

'Then let me get to know you! We still have plenty of time before the ball begins, and there's no way I'm going to be able to wear that dress after seeing how you look in it. It complements your hair so well-'

At this point, Kat began to zone out. Amelia was lovely, but very excitable, and Kat felt uncomfortable with the amount of compliments she was piling on.

The crimson dress really was beautiful (the hair, she could only hope to get used to), it fell just below her knees, and was decorated with small ruffled flowers along the hem, and a wide, slightly darker belt, tied at the back. She had pinned back a few tedious flyaways from her face that had been bugging her since she'd arrived, and was no longer totally dreading whatever her new friend had dragged her into.

From Amelia's excited ramblings, Kat had managed to ascertain that "this evening" was a ball for the wealthiest passengers on the ship, Amelia seemed to be planning to present Kat to her parents as proof she was worthy of independence. This, Kat _was _dreading.

Her thoughts touched for a moment on how she'd got here, they flew off in a million different directions; The TARDIS she had left smouldering away in that unoccupied room, what would remain when she got back there, how long she would stay here, where she would go next, how Koschei was coping with her leaving him alone, she ran through the last interaction she'd had with "Zhorn" a thousand times, never becoming any clearer, never making any sense. Try as she might, she couldn't fully comprehend that that horrifying, condescending _monster_ she'd seen that day was really Finn, her Finn. Finn who had stood by her, ignoring her differences in favour of maintaining and strengthening their relationship, despite the cost to him, he had become estranged from his father, in fact only his older brother, the Corsair, would speak to him, his entire family had rejected him, along with most of the people they knew. As she contemplated the sacrifices he had made for her, and tried to correlate them with the loveable, fiercely loyal gentleman she'd seen become of that little blonde boy in the park, she was distracted by a cry of 'Goodness, it's time to go, we've only got five minutes until it starts and it's at the other end of the ship, come on!' as Amelia dragged her out the door and they began running down the corridor towards the party.


	5. Chapter 5

_**Earth, the North Atlantic Ocean, 1912**_

Uncomfortable and slightly bored, Timelord Katrithetarelundar stood in the corner of an absurdly large ballroom, looking on as her newfound friend received a stern talking-to from the imposing figure of her tall, angular father.

At first, Amelia's parents had been almost welcoming, but after her mother had - rather stiffly – said that when she'd given Amelia some freedom, this hadn't _quite _been what she'd had in mind, Kat had slunk away to get a drink and assess the people in the room from a distance.

She had just begun to work out the relationship of two people dancing in the middle of the room, when she realised there was someone stood next to her, seemingly trying to see whatever she could.

'What do you see when you look at them?' He asked her.

'They're just old friends' she concluded.

'But the way she looks at him-'

'It's not love, it's a sort of…fondness, it's nostalgic, not hopeful. I don't think they have much longer together, this journey is goodbye for them, not hello.' She interrupted.

'Ah, I see. So whereas you see romantic love as being something that looks forward, this look is focussing on the past, although I think perhaps it is not the past she quite wanted. Those memories, they are reminders of what maybe could have been-ah, you see, there it is,' he added as the woman left the man standing there, an urgent skip in her step as she heads towards the rest room ' don't you think?'

Kat remains silent, the question hanging wide open around them.

This does not go unnoticed, and realising he has said too much he turns apologetically towards her.

She looks up towards him, taking in every detail to try and distract herself, focus on something else. Short black hair, leading towards a short and narrow beard that skirts along his chin, and flares up in two tendrils on either side of his mouth, joining in a thin moustache. His hair sticks up at the front, which along with the black shirt he wears rather than the standard suit sets him apart from the rest of the party.

He too does not altogether belong here, that much is obvious.

'My name is Dimitri'

'Kat.' There's a noticeable pause before she finally asks, 'What are you doing here?'

The question is unexpected, and slightly in shock, he breaks out in a wide smile. All of a sudden they are both stood there, surrounded by strangers, strangers to each other, bound to be spotted and asked to leave at any moment, laughing uncontrollably.

_**A/N: Alright, Titanic nerds, so I am well aware that there was no ballroom onboard, but in case you hadn't noticed, this is fiction. Fanfiction in fact, here we obey none of your rules of reality, sorry if this bothers you, but I needed it for this chapter to work. Tough shit. Get in touch!**_


	6. Chapter 6

_**Earth, the North Atlantic Ocean, 1912**_

Having bonded over both being where they shouldn't, Kat and Dimitri had decided to ignore the murmurs and glares of the rest of the crowd – they clearly had no plans to intervene – and had taken to the dancefloor.

They danced a not-quite waltz across the room, both thinking it irrelevant whether or not they "knew" the dance or not, they were both adept at learning from watching others, indeed, it was a vital aspect of both their lives.

Dimitri told Kat as they danced that he had left Finland several months ago, hungry for adventure. He had boarded the _Titanic _as a third-class passenger in Southampton, tired of England, ready to explore America. He explained that he'd needed a night away from his cramped, crowded, shared cabin, and had walked round most of the ship when he'd heard music, and seen her.

'How did you get here?' He asked, trying to keep the conversation going, but Kat tried to shrug the question off, flusteredly muttering about wanting to travel, things changing at home, and was just generally avoiding the question.

He bent down slightly towards her, gently lifting her chin up, and as she saw the searching look of betrayal on his face, she was ready to tell someone the truth…

At which point she noticed Amelia's father speaking to a man in uniform, his brow becoming more furrowed until he looked, scowling, straight at her.

Time to leave.

Taking Dimitri by the hand, she hurried out through a small side door.

'Kat, what are you doing?' He protested, flailing behind her.

'Spotted by an officer, chances are that if he found out I wasn't supposed to be there, he soon would've found you too' she explained, dragging him through the kitchens, only stopping once to flip a steak being watched by a cook clearly being distracted from his work by the sous-chef, who couldn't take his eyes off the pastry chef, whose wedding ring lay next to one and a half magnificent croquembouches.

'Where are we going?' Dimitri called out from behind her.

'Good question' she answered, stopping short just as they erupted out through swinging double doors into the restaurant. Noticing the tension in the room, Dimitri turned to her and, guiding her towards the door at the other end of the room, began to speak in rapid-fire Finnish, giving them a chance to escape the stares and glares of the various diners, who all seemed to find the spectacle of the two 'freakish foreigners' far more interesting than their gourmet meals.

Once they'd managed to navigate their way (eventually, after accidentally walking in on the sous-chef and one of the passengers and then rapidly closing the door before they noticed) to the corridor where she'd left her TARDIS. Kat came to a slow stop outside a room with a busted door, kneeling down to pick up a torn piece of deep red fabric and smoothing it out on her hand; 'this is the place'.

'Um, is there something you'd like to tell me, Kat?' Dimitri asked, looking confused as he swung the broken door on its single functioning hinge.

'Right, yes…erm,' she mumbled to herself, standing up as she wondered how to answer the question, before settling on 'It's a long way isn't it, Southampton to New York, isn't it? Must take quite a while by boat' he nodded, gesturing for her to carry on as he leant against the wall, intrigued by what she had to say.

'Well, imagine what it would be like if you could be there instantly, be anywhere, ever, within seconds.' She tilted her head, trying to gauge his reaction, and although he now seemed slightly confused, again he gestured for her to continue.

'Well, in this room, there's a big blue trunk. Except it's not really a trunk at all, it's a ship. Not like this ship, it sails not on the sea, but through time and space.' She stopped then, his face covered in a look of complete bewilderment. His mouth jittered slightly as he struggled to find the words, but before he could, she tenderly put a hand on the side of his face, and, bringing it down towards her, looked into his eyes, sincerely whispering 'let me show you'.

She gently took him by the hand, and led him into the room, holding a fragment of a past life in her other hand.

_**A/N: Phew! That was **_**hell **_**to write. Leave a review if you have any encouragement, criticism, screams, death threats, love letters etc etc. You know the drill.**_


	7. Chapter 7

_**Sabaur D'aria, Milanovis, 2042 CE**_

There were lots of ways Kat had envisaged this trip going, but ending up in a dank, dingy prison cell with a dodgy time agent and an urgently praying 20th-century Finn doing her head in was not one of them, she thought as she began to slowly bang her head against the wall.

'aaaaaaaaAAAAARRGH! Shut up! Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!' She groaned, her teeth grinding together in frustration. 'No, I do not want to go on a date with you, irrespective of your rank, and as for _you_,' she said, whipping around to point at a now cowering Dimitri, 'I am _not _your bloody _paholainen_, so telling Jesus won't help you all that much- you might as well stop, in fact. And no-' she countered, turning to the time agent as he put a finger up, leaning towards her, poised to interrupt ' I do _not _have any siblings'.

_Good, _she thought to herself _that should keep them quiet for a moment._ _The question is…how do _we_ get out. _After all, she may be intolerant of the two idiots, but she could at least be civil. _Oh Rassilon, I sound like Koschei._

Eager to get that thought out of her head, she instead focussed on the room they were in. There was no window in the door for the guards to look through, which ruled out using the flirt in the corner as a distraction.

Turning away from the door, she gave the bare walls a quick look over, and then turned to assess her cellmates.

On the left kneeled Dimitri, his face to the wall, moving his hands over it, seemingly trying to convince himself it was real. She let out a breathy chuckle as she remembered the bravado he had shown back on the _Titanic. _She didn't really blame him for ending them up in here, how was he supposed to know that it was illegal to urinate on what in hindsight was obviously some kind of embassy (that at least explained the flags). Anyway, she was the one that then proceeded to attack the admittedly very polite police officer.

On the right, leaning casually against the grotty wall, apparently indifferent as to what it was doing to that sodding coat he had seemed so protective of earlier when she'd tapped his shoulder to ask where he was from ('Hey, mind the coat! Well hello there gorgeous,_ I_ have a room in the hotel round the corner, plenty of room for two,' looking at Dimitri, 'or three') was a con man intent on telling her he was a captain. He seemed to be fiddling with something on his wrist, yanking it off and bouncing it off the ground at the exact moment she realised what it was.

She saw her chance, and grabbed the rickety vortex manipulator off the ground, instantly prising the back off and discarding it.

'Hey! That's my only way out of here!' He protested as she ripped out pieces of scorched circuit board, twisting various wires around her finger before placing them back in-'you've had some cowboys in 'ere! Where'd you find this? In the bin behind your oh-so-hospitable hotel room?' Finally, content with her work, she wodged a finger in her mouth, dragged it down the inside of her cheek, and –to cries of horror and disgust from the captain, wiped it all over the framework of the VM and reattached the backing sheet.

'That should do the trick' she proclaimed, proudly.

'Oh really? Well in that case you won't mind me making my way back to my room.' He angrily replied.

'Are you joking? Firstly, I just did a costly amount of repair work on that thing, and secondly, you're a wanted criminal you wally, if you think you can just swagger back to the hotel, picking up a few dates on the way, you've got another think coming.' She argued, arms folded with the vortex manipulator tightly within her grasp.

'Oh well what would you suggest then?' He yelled back, imperceptibly taking a knock to his confidence.

'Transporting the three of us back to my ship, sending him' she gestured at Dimitri in the corner, who seemed to be hyperventilating, 'back to the right time and place, and then dropping you off wherever with a pit stop to a proper repair shop in-between, if I don't strangle you first. That is on the one condition that you _stop flirting_.'

'Just with you though, right?'

'Nope, no flirting. Not me, not him, not yourself, not strangers in the street.'

'Let me think about that for a minute.' He begged.

'Okay, but they're pretty big on executions around here and I _think_ I heard some footsteps.'

'Fine!' He shouted, 'you know what, let's start moving, there could be traffic, you never know.'

'Alright then,' she answered cheerily, 'let's get going, come on Dimitri.'

The poor man turned around instantly turned around at the sound of his name, stood up somewhat shakily, shivered, and then looked towards them brightly as if he _hadn't_ just had a minor breakdown.

Kat placed the VM (which had a slight dribble leaking out one side) on her wrist, and the two men grabbed on tightly, she set the coordinates for the street corner where she'd left her TARDIS, and they disappeared in a flash of blue light.


	8. Chapter 8

_**Sabaur D'aria, Milanovis, 2042 CE**_

'No, no no no, come onnnnnnnn.' Kat said, looking at the state of her ship. Not only was it still a trunk that belonged on earth in the early 1900s, it was battered, lying on its side and covered in flyers for the 'Carnival of the mongoose', which didn't appeal to her, even if it was 'the best entertainment this side of Sol III'.

'Although,' she said peeling a poster for the 'execution of a disgraced time agent, guilty of grifting and high treason' off the lid 'this is something to cheer me up in the mornings' and sticking it in her pocket.

'Charming' deadpanned the captain.

'Uh, ah, the uh, argh…' Stuttered Dimitri, gesticulating wildly at the armed guard marching towards them.

'Oh yes, good point, you just, er, pop in there,' said Kat, heaving open the lid, and gesturing them inside.

'Just down the ladder, is it?' Questioned the captain as he clambered in.

'Er, sure, yes' replied a slightly confused Kat, peering down into the case. Shaking it off, she encouraged Dimitri to make his way down, then hastily followed him, pulling the lid closed behind them.

Descending the ladder (which definitely hadn't been there before) she came to a sort of shaft, which led to another ladder.

Jumping the last few rungs, she found herself in a huge domed room, the floor coated in lush red grass, the walls painted white with silver wood panels around the bottom. To the right of where she stood at the base of the ladder she found a small cluster of cabinets, mostly empty, but on further examination a large round door opened into a small cubbyhole where she found her long red cloak with the black embroidery where there should have been gold, and the matching hood she had taken to wearing in her last few years on Gallifrey, when she had begun to stick to the shadows. Closing it and turning around she faced an elevated platform, where stood a console covered in elaborate controls. Sprouting from the centre of the console a wide, transparent tube led up to the ceiling, where it met a honeycomb-like cluster, liquid like, and full of energy. Within the tube stood a tower of emerald green diamond shapes, poised and ready to move.

Among the grass was a plain hardwood desk, dark and simple, with a Gallifreyan's toolbox on top and a mound of drafting paper waiting to be used.

Although she itched to explore further the now-completed ship, she had to maintain an image of knowing exactly what was going on, so she headed for the console.

'So, Dimitri. New York, April 15th 1912? Right era, and it gives you a head start at finding accommodation, fit the bill?'

The misplaced Finn gave a solemn nod, clearly eager to get back to a plan.

Kat nodded as she set the space-time coordinates, ticking a dial along for the right time, using a series of knobs in grooves to type in the place name in circular gallifreyan. She pumped a throttle to get the rotor moving, and they were off.

_**A/N: Pa-pow! Nothing for two months and then two chapters at once, m'on a roll. Thanks for reading!**_


	9. Chapter 9

_**New York, Earth, April 15**__**th**__** 1912**_

Dimitri flopped his way out of the TT capsule, pressing his face and hands to the grey, uneven pavement.

'Are you sure you should be leaving him like this?' The captain asked, genuine concern in his voice as he looked between the pale, shaky man knelt on the floor and the uncertain-looking girl clambering out of the already battered time ship.

'Honestly? I have absolutely no idea. If he can't handle it now, I shouldn't take him any further. If I take him back home to Finland it doesn't make sense. If he goes back to England it'll end up messing with his head. This way, he'll remember how it felt for that one good night, he'll remember what it was like to step on the surface of another world. He can remember if he can cope with that, but if it was really too much he can forget about it. Convince himself it was just one of those ultra-vivid dreams that you can remember the feel of, but not the details.' She said, quieting.

'Have you done this before?' He replied, confused at the amount of thought she seemed to have put into this.

'No. But I've often wished I could've made this choice. Maybe one day. Maybe then I can forget. Maybe I won't have to.' She said, simply.

The two of them stood there, both contemplating what she had just said. After a quiet moment, they looked at each other and both moved to pull Dimitri up onto his feet.

'Come on, let's find you a place to stay.'

An hour later, the three of them were stood in almost exactly the same place, all leaning against the wall.

After spending ten minutes walking around with no idea where they were going, and forty-five finding a flat that was remotely habitable, it took them three minutes of pocket patting and confused conferring to realise none of them had anything that even slightly resembled 'dollars' and to make a quick, less-subtle-than-intended getaway.

'Well, that was embarrassing' Kat concluded.

As a means of blocking out whatever snarky response the captain would inevitably come up with, she began to subtly skim-read the minds of the crowd around them. A newspaper journalist convinced his story would change the world. A woman on the way to her father's funeral, reliving a different moment of horror with every tap of her heel on the pavement. A little girl silently fuming that her mother wouldn't buy her green shoes because they were in a "boys' colour". Finally, moving quickly across the wide road, a conman. $50,000 in his bag and nothing but thoughts for the family he'd left behind five states away going through his head. A daughter, short, redheaded, reserved and slightly clumsy, who loved her Daddy. What, the man wondered, would she think of him now?

Dreading what she was about to do, Kat crossed the road, absent-mindedly leaving the boys with an instructive 'wait there'.

Walking diagonally, so as to end up in front of the grafter, she tripped on the curb, falling down with a sudden 'oh!' that she had heard in the man's memories. Seeing that she had his attention, she suddenly lurched into his mind, emphasising those memories and bringing them up to the forefront of his mind. She realised at this point that in the lavish dress Amelia had lent her, she hardly looked like she needed the money, so with huge unwillingness she entered his mind once more to add a smudge of grime to her chin and nose, dirty the dress a little, and rip the hem, with a large purple bruise to her left knee for good measure.

Suddenly the man offered her his hand, and helping her up, turned to his bag, removing a considerable wodge of cash, and pressing it into her hands. 'Here, find somewhere to settle down. Streets are no place for a young lady', at first she acted shocked, even seemed to protest a little, but she "reluctantly" took it.

'Thank you, sir, but you should be getting home, have a good day.' She said, giving him a meaningful look before crossing the road again and returning to the other two.

'Here', she said, handing a baffled Dimitri what looked to be around $1,000.

He nodded in thanks. 'We should have something to eat - before you leave'.

And then the three of them turned and headed towards the smell of freshly baked bread.


End file.
